


you fit me better

by Anonymous



Category: Block B
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content, Sharing Clothes, Size Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:28:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6781714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He’s wearing Jiho’s grey sweater.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you fit me better

Kyung shows up to the recording studio right after Jiho. He’s barefaced, not a trace of makeup. His hair is brushed down instead of the side part reserved for on camera appearances. No insoles. 

He’s wearing Jiho’s grey sweater.

Jiho’s heart jumps when he sees Kyung in the doorway, so struck with affection he feels frozen. 

Kyung walks over and smiles.

“Looks good on me, right?”

The shoulders of the sweater are too wide, sliding down onto his arms. His collarbone is peeking through and the sleeves hang down over Kyung’s palms. 

Jiho grins, but doesn’t open his mouth, to keep his heart from jumping out of his throat. 

Kyung’s hand lands on his shoulder then moves to the nape of his neck. He touches the bottom of Jiho’s hairline and it’s so absent minded and sweet, Jiho wants to grab Kyung’s wrists and kiss his hands.

“Yeah, get your own wardrobe.”

Kyung takes the seat next to him and waits. He fiddles with knobs and buttons and the whole time, Jiho watches his hands, wonders if his palms have soaked up his own scent. Does the thread hold the smell of both of them?

Jaehyo and Taeil are the next to make it in. Right away Jaehyo is shooed into the booth and Kyung retreats back to the studio’s couch.

It’s not a serious recording, just laying down the blueprints before the final plan is polished. Minhyuk and Jihoon come in next. Right away Jihoon grabs the chair next to Jiho’s. Minhyuk sits on the couch with Kyung and scrolls through Instagram.

Jiho is so wrapped up in the work, he doesn’t even notice Yukwon’s arrival until he asks if he’s next up in the booth.

Kyung watches him and Jiho can feel it, the calculating gaze.

When they all leave, and it’s only Kyung and Jiho alone in the studio, the lights in the booth are off and the room is half lit.

Jiho is sitting on the couch. Just sitting. Kyung spins in the swivel chair by the soundboard and asks, “Are you going home and sleeping?”

“Yeah, later.”

The chair squeaks when Kyung puts his feet down and stops spinning.

Jiho watches and soaks up the wash of light spilling across half of Kyung’s face. He smiles and even through the haze of faint exhaustion, Jiho feels his ears tingle with heat. 

When was the last time he was alone with Kyung like this? Jiho thinks most boyfriends do a better job at the whole “quality time” thing.

But this quiet moment in a dim room will do. He feels warm and calm enough just looking at Kyung shamelessly, with no one else in the room.

Kyung stands.

“It’s been a long day, you should relax and destress.” 

He walks across the room and the quiet of the room goes tense suddenly.

Kyung opens the door and Jiho’s head whips to look from where he’s sitting on the sofa.

“You’re leaving?”

Kyung glances back, eyes sparkling.

“Don’t worry, I’m just going to the little boy’s room. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jiho is almost too tired to feel embarrassed. Almost.

The studio door closes and he unlaces his boots, chucks them nearly across the room once they’re off his feet. The baseball cap is tossed onto the nearest swivel chair.

He lies back on the sofa, closes his eyes and uses his toes to peel off his socks without having to get up. He sighs. The door opens and Jiho doesn’t move an inch. The cushions dip and one warm hand slides across his torso. Jiho sighs again.

He opens one eye. Kyung is looking at him with the corners of his eyes creased, how he always does when he has a terribly good idea.

“You’re not too tired, are you?”

Jiho’s face splits into a smile. Possibly the hundredth one today.

Kyung traces one finger along his jaw. No seduction, just familiarity. Jiho keeps both eyes open as he leans up, just to look at Kyung’s expression before he kisses him.

Kyung presses into the kiss immediately and licks his way into Jiho’s mouth without preamble. Jiho sits up fully now, encouraged by Kyung’s enthusiasm. When Kyung massages his fingers into his jaw, he opens his mouth wider and sighs. 

He grabs at Kyung’s waist, slides him fully onto his lap, knees bracketing his hips. Kyung is flushed pink. His lips are shining red and his collarbone is slightly bared. 

“You look really hot, Kyunggie.”

“Yeah?”

Jiho leans his head back as Kyung threads his fingers into his hair. He hisses when Kyung’s hot mouth licks and bites at his skin from the collarbone up to his jawline.

Kisses make their way from his adam’s apple to his mouth, to his nose, to his temple. 

“Guess what I bought in the bathroom.”

Jiho opens his eyes then closes them again right away as he laughs.

“Jesus, you think of everything.”

Kyung twirls the foiled condom between his fingers. 

“Don’t wanna make a mess.”

Jiho takes the condom out of Kyung’s hand and sets it to the side. He’s not done kissing him quite yet. He has to make him blush everywhere, first.

“I figured you’d carry the condoms with you.” His mouth is already skimming across Kyung’s clavicle, fingers splaying on his bottom.

“I would, I just forgot to put them in my bag today with the lube.”

His hands and mouth freeze. He leans back to look Kyung in the face.

“The  _ what _ ? What?”

“Don’t worry, you can top today. I’m pretty sure you’re too tired to have to get prepped first.”

Jiho’s head puts two and two together, but it still doesn’t register completely.

“I thought this was going to be, like, I don’t know - a blowjob?”

Kyung tilts his head and smiles so softly and sweetly that Jiho isn’t sure he can trust it. 

“Nope. I mean, we could do that if you want.”

He grinds down “accidentally”, hips moving in a slow circle, rubbing up against the erection he knows Jiho has growing in his jeans.

“Fuck.”

Kyung does it again, a bit faster, and Jiho hears his breath hitch, a small whimper coming through Kyung’s teeth as his tease backfires on him.

“It’s been a long time. Really, really long.” Kyung grinds down now like he can’t help it.

“I know, babe.” He hopes the petname will soothe him, smooth things over until he makes Kyung come.  

Kyung tilts his hips forward again and they both inhale sharply.

Jiho can’t even remember the last time he jerked off. The few hours he has free are spent sleeping. He’s quickly remembering what it means to feel good in this way.

Kyung climbs off his lap and Jiho’s hips almost follow him, seeking out the pressure of Kyung’s weight.

He raises his arms when Kyung tugs at the hem of his shirt. 

Kyung frowns at Jiho when he sees yet another shirt under the one just removed.

“Why do you wear so many layers?”

Jiho laughs and his shirt drags on his nose as it’s pulled over his head. 

The shirt gone, Kyung’s clever hands play along Jiho’s bared skin. He drags the pads of his fingers over Jiho’s tattoos, follows the touch with his mouth. Jiho feels so starved, he can only sit back and take all the sensations in, too overwhelmed to reciprocate.

Kyung’s mouth ghosts over a nipple, his hands already gliding down to the button of Jiho’s jeans. His hand presses down with far too much force when he pulls down the zipper and Jiho almost squirms under the touch, sparks shooting up through his belly to his chest. Just the push of Kyung’s hand.

He sends out a quick prayer and  hopes he’ll actually last more than two minutes tonight.

Kyung tugs Jiho’s jeans down, presses a kiss to the bulge in his boxers and pulls the pants off his ankles.

When he crawls back up, his hand reaches for the waistband of the boxers, mouth opening in anticipation. Jiho grabs his wrist.

“Don’t.”

Kyung’s eyes waver for a moment but when Jiho tugs him up he doesn’t resist. He slaps away Jiho’s hand when he reaches out to undress him. All he can do is watch as Kyung makes a show of even slipping off his shoes. The blue jeans slink down white thighs and all Jiho can think is how he wants to bend Kyung’s legs back and fuck him senseless.

He reaches out again and slips his hand under the sweater, hooks his fingers into the waistband of Kyung’s underwear. He tugs him in close. 

Kyung is practically swimming in Jiho’s sweater now, looking that much smaller without his pants and shoes, the edge of his underwear showing under the hem of the sweater. 

“Keep it on?”

Kyung freezes, and Jiho holds his breath. He tries to steady his own heartbeat, tries not to flinch under the focus of Kyung’s eyes. He feels the hem of the sweater brush his knuckles.

Kyung doesn’t reply. He guides Jiho’s hands from his thighs to rest on his hips, over the shirt, and leans down to kiss him. 

Jiho pushes his tongue against Kyung’s and closes his thighs, rubs them, tries to get some friction against his cock. Kyung kisses him hard, invades his nerves with hot breath and wet tongue.

When he breaks the kiss, he’s blushing from his ears to his nose, red against fair skin. 

“Wait here.”

He goes over to his bag at the other side of the room, gets on his knees to rummage through it. Jiho looks at the way his sweater rests over the curve of Kyung’s bare ass. When Kyung comes back to him with the lube, Jiho’s eyes drag down to the hard on tenting the cloth of the sweater. 

Kyung must’ve caught him staring, because his hand dips down, drags slow up his thigh before pushing up the sweater. Jiho’s pulse jumps and he rubs his legs together again, transfixed on the sight of Kyung’s hand cupping then stroking his cock. He lifts his hand and Jiho stares while Kyung licks his palm before returning it between his legs. The sleeve of the sweater is pooled around his wrist. 

“Jiho.”

He sounds half gone already. His voice is breathless. Even the two syllables of Jiho’s name sound rushed.

“Jiho, fuck me already. Don’t make me wait any longer.”

Jiho practically tackles him to the floor, and Kyung laughs despite it all. Jiho laughs too, working his way out of his underwear while Kyung lies down.

His hands are near shaking when he pops the cap on the lube, fingers rushing when he warms it up. He puts one hand to the back of Kyung’s left knee and pushes until Kyung is nearly bent in half. He licks his lips when Kyung gasps.

He knows he should be careful and pay close attention. But he doesn’t watch, goes by touch while he fingers Kyung open, because he wants to stare at his face, at the way his mouth falls open. The way his adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. The shine of Kyung’s eyes. The blush on his skin when Jiho crooks his fingers to make him moan.

“I’m good, I’m ready.”

He’s clawing at the cloth of the sweater, over his tummy, and Jiho doesn’t understand why he just can’t get enough of this. 

He pulls his fingers out, and licks a stripe from Kyung’s balls up to the head of his cock. Kyung moans, always the noisier one.

In one final moment of clarity, Jiho remembers the condom left on the floor between them and the sofa. 

“Oh my god, why didn’t you do that earlier.”

“I forgot. Life isn’t a porno, Kyunggie.”

Kyung huffs, too far gone to come up with his usual witty reply.

Jiho rolls the condom on and glances up.

“Why’d you wear that?”

Kyung spreads his legs.

“Why do you think? I like it and it’s yours.”

Jiho fits himself between Kyung’s legs, braces his hands on either side of his head.

When he pushes in he closes his eyes and all he has is the feel of Kyung around him, the legs wrapped around his waist, the sound of Kyung’s first moan.

He opens his eyes, and pushes one of Kyung’s legs back. He pulls out slow, dragging the heat and pushes in just as slow, dragging along Kyung’s prostate.

Kyung breathes out “Oh my God.” and Jiho has to dig his nails into his skin.

He stares down, right at Kyung’s face, and wants to lick the beads of sweat forming along his brow. Kyung wraps one hand around Jiho’s forearm.

“Go slow.”

By now, Jiho can’t talk, so he grunts and pulls out slow again, starts up a lazy rhythm that makes him dizzy. He licks at the hollow of Kyung’s throat. He sucks a hickey onto his skin while his hips roll and Kyung whimpers. 

He realizes he never heard Kyung lock the studio door and wonders at the kind of music they’re making right now. Wet skin and loud breaths. Kyung’s moans. The idea that someone could walk in and catch them thrills him too much. He slides in faster, and Kyung moans out sharp.

When he kisses him, Kyung bites his lip so hard Jiho thinks he might bleed. He doesn’t pull away, only snaps his hips in faster, hard enough that Kyung actually slides on the floor.

Kyung breaks the kiss and opens his eyes to stare right at Jiho. He twists his hips.

“Kiss me.”

Jiho leans away, instead.

“Say you’re mine.”

Kyung whines. He looks absolutely wrecked, hips racing to match Jiho’s pace. He is red and pink all over, gasping like he’s been underwater. 

“I’m yours.”

Kyung’s hand sneaks down and he lifts the sweater up all the way to his chest. He starts to touch himself, stroking with his wrist twisting. Jiho doesn’t stop him, doesn’t want to.

“Tell me again.”

“I’m yours, I’m yours.”

Jiho’s hardly thinking now, head drowned in just the feel of Kyung, the smell and taste of his skin. All he can focus on is the fire pooling and building low in his belly.

“Open your eyes. Please. Please, Kyung.”

Kyung obliges and without prompting tells him “I’m yours.”

Jiho swoops back in, kisses him until he thinks they’re breathing in tandem. 

Kyung starts moaning louder now, nails scratching down his back. His left hand is still stroking and Jiho knows he’s close too.

He could envelop all of Kyung like this. Could lie down, his own broad shoulders overtaking Kyung’s. His stomach is so soft, his waist so small, all wrapped up in Jiho’s clothes, in Jiho’s scent. All his.

Kyung presses his heels into Jiho’s ass and when he comes he whimpers out his name. His voice wavers, a moan sounding like a sob, and that’s all it takes for Jiho to orgasm right after.

Jiho lies onto Kyung, listens to the long exhale when he presses down on Kyung’s chest with his full weight. He feels stickiness on his stomach and knows that his shirt is ruined.

Jiho turns his head and looks at Kyung, Kyung with his eyes closed and his long lashes, and his tousled hair. Jiho strokes his bangs, sweeps them to the side then back to the front, just for the sake of touching him.

The sound of footfalls in the stairwell outside the studio makes them freeze. After a few seconds, the sound passes and Jiho slacks down against Kyung again.

“Fuck, my back hurts.”

Jiho rolls off him then, and wonders how Kyung endured getting fucked on a hardwood floor.

When he lies down Kyung sits up, and starts to peel the sweater off himself. It tangles when he loses his hands somewhere in the sleeves, head trapped in the collar. Jiho doesn’t help, just watches and laughs. 

“Fuck you, now what am I going to wear.”

“It’s mine, it’s not even yours.”

“That’s not the point, if you hadn’t asked me to keep it on, I’d have something to wear out of this studio.”

Almost a whisper, but unafraid, Jiho says, “You’re so small in it.”

He’s always liked picking Kyung up, holding him, spinning him. That was cute. Kyung is cute. He loves that.

He loves him.

And he’s all Kyung’s.

He might just donate the rest of his wardrobe to Kyung. 

Kyung starts wiping himself down with the sweater, then cleans Jiho off too.

“Forgot to pack tissues.” He says.

Jiho lends him one of his shirts before they walk out of the studio.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really sorry I honestly have written smut about three times in my life and it's been a while. Thanks for reading! Find me @ ficanon on tumblr. Thank you to 447am for constantly brainstorming with me, every single day.


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